England's Problem
by cosmo17
Summary: England is having a huge problem in the middle of a World Meeting, his reputation and status are at risk. To make things worse, France is being very... French. One-Shot! Rated for mild language, childish/adult humor.


**A/n: This one-shot was inspired by my sister, who decided it would be a pleasant idea to pass gas in my room... This is what hatched from our brains as a result of that little 'incident.' I hope this is humorous enough, I'm not so sure how I am with writing humor. So! Enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia... But I will :D muahaha!  
**

England shifted slowly and uncomfortably in his seat. He bit his lip, trying his absolute hardest to contain himself. This was hell. Pure, unadulterated hell. For nearly two and a half hours, the Englishman had been holding in what he knew would be the most vile, obnoxious, and thunderous 'passing of gas' in his entire life. The only problem was, he was currently sitting in the middle of a World Meeting. Everyone was there, and for some horrible reason, everyone was being silent, for the most part. At times he had considered simply doing the act while everyone was shouting and laughing, arguing or fighting. This was not the case, however.

Dammit, his internal struggle was surely going to kill him! He thought he may explode if he moved even slightly. Clenching and grinding his teeth, he told himself to fight through it. He was a gentleman, thank you very much! He would not be reduced to something as low and embarrassing as passing gas in front of the _entire world_, literally. He wasn't America, after all. That bloody fool regularly ripped disgustingly loud ones, without a care in the world. In fact, Japan had been more than unfortunate enough to be the one sitting next to America after the boy had finished off an entire tray of hamburgers. England cringed at the thought. Though now nobody really cared, simply passing it off with rolled eyes and a small comment. However, England was not America. England was the very definition of prim and proper, passing gas seemed nearly impossible for someone like him. At the moment, Germany was giving his speech, looking quite proud, yet carefree at the same time. He must be in a good mood today. All the other countries were taking notes attentatively. Just as England thought he may just give up right then, France took notice to the uncomfortable look on his face, a grin spreading across his lips. Damn that frog, why did Germany insist on arranging their seats right next to each other?

"What is the matter mon lapin? You look like you are about to explode," he whispered, his voice laced with a seductive tone.

"Piss off Francis," was all he could say through grit teeth, his voice strained.

"Honhonhon, clearly you are unwell. I believe I know what's wrong..."

"Wha-?"

France licked his lips, staring down at England's lap, noticing that his legs were crossed and smiled, running his fingers through his hair.

"It is alright to admit it Angleterre. Sometimes I get aroused during these meetings as well, especially when le hunk is speaking..."

England's eyes widened as France said that. That perverted French idiot seriously thought he was... Oh god, that was just wrong.

"I hate you so much frog, I'm going to punch you when this meeting ends."

With that, he turned around, desperately holding in the inevitable and avoiding France's perverted gaze. Just when he thought he was safe, that he may be able to make it through Germany's speech, he felt a warm, intruding hand work it's way up his thigh, hearing the Frenchy purr behind him. Instinctively, out of pure terror and shock at the sudden touch, he jumped, a strange squeak coming from the back of his throat. France's hand shot back as if it were on fire at the two sounds that followed. A loud whining noise filled the room as England finally released the built up pressure, in a loud squeaky fart that lasted a full ten seconds. It ended with a loud 'phut!'

Every head in the room snapped in his direction simultaneously, and eyes widened in surprise and confusion, all staring at England in a daze. England felt the room grow incredibly hot as his face became a deep shade of red. He turned to Francis, who still held his hand at his chest tentatively, a horrified and shocked expression on his face. Then, France's face became a shade of red that paled in comparison to England's, his cheeks puffing up. He drew back his head, and then...

"HONHONHONHON! Angleterre just farted!" he burst out obnoxiously, laughing louder than any could have thought possible.

Everyone else began to laugh as well, making England's situation that much more mortifying. China just rolled his eyes, Japan dared a small, sympathetic smile. America winked and shot him two thumbs up, and Germany buried his face in his hand, shaking his head. England was puffed up like a small bird, his entire face cherry red, speechless with embarrassment as the rest laughed loudly, choruses of cheers and whistling around the room. Worst of all, when England looked back at Germany, he could see his body rocking with silent laughter, that he was attempting (quite poorly) to hide. He bit his lip and did what he knew was right. He turned and socked France straight in his froggy face. He slumped to the floor, unconscious. The rest just continued to laugh, and England let his head fall to the table with a bang, burying his head in his arms. This would go down in history for sure.


End file.
